


34 Days

by EllyAvon, mahons-ondine (mahons_ondine)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Before the Draft, Bittersweet, M/M, summer boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllyAvon/pseuds/EllyAvon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahons_ondine/pseuds/mahons-ondine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are 34 days between winning the Memorial Cup and the Draft in Montreal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Updates Daily!

Day 1

It’s probably the most pathetic breakfast they’ve ever had, but it might be Jack’s favorite. They’re nude, wrapped in a mess of blankets and sheets and discarded clothing. They’re passing a bottle of room-temperature gatorade back and forth, taking pulls of it like it’s a flask. When they’ve downed the whole thing, Kenny begins recounting every second of the game the night before in a hoarse voice as he staggers around, trying to find Jack a protein bar to eat with his morning medicine. Jack smile/winces at him, because he’s amazing and beautiful and ridiculous and they are both so, so, so hungover right now. It doesn’t even matter that his head is pounding and his stomach is churning and his hands are shaking because he hasn’t had a Xanax in too long. Last night, they won the Memorial Cup together. Last night, they drank and danced and watched the stars. Last night, they had sloppy, giddy sex, like they were sixteen again. This morning...

Kenny produces a protein bar and Jack splits it with him. 

“Here’s to us, eh?” he says, and his own voice is raspy.

“To me and you, Zimms,” Kenny says, and kisses him.

Well, this morning is pretty amazing, too.


	2. Chapter 2

Day 2

The morning dawns clear and bright, with just the last hint of spring chill on the air. Kent turns over slowly in bed, careful not to jostle his bedmate, and he stares. Jack is so close that Kent can count each of his eyelashes, and the slight smile gracing his face makes him seem so young, even though Kent knows that they've left childhood behind as they turn towards the future. It's a liminal state this pre-draft summer haze, and Kent is bold with it. 

"I love you," he whispers, barely hearing the words over the roar of his own blood.

"I love you," he tries again, breath ruffling the fine black hairs that curl over Jack's forehead. 

Jack stirs, mouth settling into a frown, face screwed up as though considering Kent's admission. And then after what must be the longest moment of Kent's life, he settles, frown still in place. 

Kent breathes a sigh of relief and leans over to kiss his friend awake, pouring into it all the feelings he is still learning how to explain.


	3. Chapter 3

Day 3

Jack knows there’s a part of his brain that even the best drugs can’t fix, and most days it fucking sucks. Jack just always feels-- other. But, over the last few years he’s perfected a specific combination of actions and drugs that help him feel a little more present. Just slightly more relaxed and alive. This afternoon he has everything all lined up perfectly.

He’s already worked out, he hasn’t seen ESPN or a sports page, he’s taken a slightly unnecessarily high dose of his as-needed medication, and he is lying on a blanket in his parents’ back yard, and he’s reading Guns, Germs, and Steel for the 30th time. 

Also, he has Kent Parson’s beautiful golden head in his lap.

Kenny is dozing, and Jack gets to read his book while carding his fingers through his hair. The sun is shining through the maple trees and Jack is comfortable and calm.

He knows it can’t last, and the second he starts to think about it, he knows his break is over. He tries not to think about the draft, about being in the closet, about how many pills he took today. 

It seems like he can’t help it though, he stares at Kenny, who’s as beautiful on his lap as he is on the ice. Kenny, who could get drafted before he does. Kenny, who almost certainly won’t go to the same team he will. Kenny, who is a man. 

His heart starts to race, and he jostles Kent in his move to get another pill in his mouth.

“Come here,” Kent mumbles, and pulls Jack down beside him on the blanket. 

Jack drifts into a hazy nap, with the sun in his hair and a frown on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

Day 4

It's the first time that they’ve been in four days and Jack takes to the ice like a starving man. He smiles at Kent, smiles and smiles, as he skates away from him. And Kent smiles back, but it doesn't reach his eyes. It can't. He knows, he knows that the selfsame ice is going to be the thing that takes Jack away from him just as surely as it is the thing that brought him to Jack. 

But Kent loves the ice, too. Kent loves the way he can push off and glide, the sound of his skates scraping across the surface. Kent loves it all. He's pretty sure though, that he Ioves Jack more. Kent watches as Jack faces off against an imaginary opponent, features set in a grimace, and then he shoots! He scores! The crowd of one, just him, goes wild, and Jack blushes so prettily. He's already flushed from skating, but the pink creeps down his neck and under his collar and Kent knows what that looks like without the shirt, has traced the slow bloom of color with his lips, and tasted the warmth of that skin and the glow of his smile. 

Kent would do a lot of things for that smile. If Jack wanted him to, Kent would quit, he thinks, or stay in the Q until he is 20. If it would make Jack happy. If he wouldn’t resent him and hate him and always wonder. Because Kent loves hockey. He loves hockey with all his heart. 

Jack skates across the ice, dragging Kent into a very enthusiastic two person celly. 

Yea, he thinks sadly, burying his face in The crook of Jack’s neck. He may love hockey with all his heart, but he loves Jack with every piece of himself. 

Jack pulls away and skates off to retrieve the puck. It's just the opposite for Jack, he thinks. He loves hockey the way I love him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our dear trash can son gets some.

Day Five 

“God your fucking mouth Jack damn it,” Kenny says, breathless and thready. 

As he does in most things, Jack applies himself with complete focus. Be better applies in all spheres of his life and sex is definitely included. He hollows his cheeks and slides his mouth all the way up, so that the tip of Kent’s cock just barely leaves his mouth. Then, he presses his face down, sucking all the way, down, down, until his nose is buried in Kent’s wiry golden hair. Jack doesn’t have to work hard on his gag reflex; so much of him is numb at this point.

He can feel what he’s doing to Kent. He can feel Kent’s quadriceps tensing and spasming when he hits sensitive spots. He can feel his cock twitch in his mouth. He can feel his hands, frantically carding through his hair. It’s enough to drive him a little mad with power, quite frankly.

Except, what Jack really loves is this part:

“Jack, Zimms, fuck, yes yesyesyes.” the moment when Kenny, who is the epitome of cool, finally lets down his defenses. 

He loves to see Kent unfurled, open, vulnerable. Beautiful. Kenny is always beautiful, but like this he’s perfect. His chest and cheeks are flushed and his muscles tremble. Jack switches to his hand so he can watch his face as he comes. His mouth forms an inaudible cry, and his neck lifts into a perfect, glorious arch.

He closes his eyes though. He always keeps his eyes closed. 

Jack drags himself up a bit and lays his head on Kent’s chest, listening to his heart thrum wildly; marveling at the way his head is lifted with every breath he takes.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking amazing,” Kenny says weakly.

“Tell that to the Canadiens, eh?” Jack says. It should be funny, but the joke has fallen flatter and flatter over the years.

Kent does laugh, though. He wrestles him onto his back and kisses his way down his stomach to return the favor.


	6. Chapter 6

Day 6

It's the first really hot day of the summer. The morning is cool when they go out for a run at 6, a late start in deference to the fact that they are supposed to be on vacation. By the time they slump into the house at 7:30, though, the sun is up in the sky, beating down relentlessly. 

“Pancakes?” Kent asks hopefully. 

Jack rolls his eyes, “protein shakes.” 

Kent shrugs, watching the muscles bunch in Jack’s shoulders as he slices bananas and scoops out peanut butter, yogurt and protein powder. His mouth goes dry. He loves the practiced moves, loves how Jack slides through his routine so easily. People call Jack a hockey robot, but they don't him the way Kent does. They don't see the way his eyes crinkle when he watches the peewee team finishing up their practice. They don't see the pride on his face when Kenny scores a particularly beautiful goal. Or the fear that follows. Jack is a person underneath the hockey robot, and Kent is lucky enough to see it. 

“Kenny?” 

Kent shakes himself, accepting the smoothie and chugging it down, trying to keep his thoughts off his face. 

“Let's go swimming.” 

Kent stares. 

“Come on, Kenny, I know how to have fun.” 

Kent winks at him, eyes tracing the bulges of his muscles, the places the sweaty shirt clings. Jack blushes, and Kent can't keep up the smirking facade, his face melting into a grin, only growing bigger when Jack’s lips tilt up in a shy smile as he backs away. 

“See you down at the pool, Kenny,” Jack whispers. 

“Zimms…?” 

“Medicine, Parson!”

Kent watches Jack jog up the stairs until even his shoes disappear from view. He lets his face fall then, scrubbing at his eyes. But after a moment he takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and heads for the backyard. Jack wants to go swimming. Kent can give him that much, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave us some love or a suggestion! We're several days ahead and have the end planned but are nowhere near done, so suggestions would be taken with looooooove. <3 Ondine and Elly


	7. Chapter 7

Day 7

This is not Jack’s favorite music. It’s too loud and electronic to feel like real music to him. It makes him a little anxious, because it’s so similar to the music that they always blasted before games. He’s sure he’s heard this exact song during warm ups. Except now he doesn’t have anything to focus on besides forcing himself to take another pull of UV. It’s silly that they drink UV; Jack has access to hoards of money, he could buy them old wine or smooth bourbon or whatever he wanted, really. It’s perfectly legal in Montreal. But Kent insists, and Jack doesn’t particularly care, so here they are, listening to Gimme More and breaking into their new 1.75 bottle of UV Cherry. There is an upside, of course, to having Britney Spears’ Blackout CD on loop. 

The upside is that Kent loves it. After a certain amount of booze, he can’t help but dance, and he is good at it. Jack is slumped in his reading chair when the next song comes on. Kent smirks when he hears the opening to it, and takes another shot. Jack has no idea how many shots that is for him, but Kent looks hazy and feral and incredibly sexy. He lost his T-shirt almost an hour ago, and his jeans are riding low on his hips. Jack knows every inch of Kenny’s body like it’s his own, but he never tires of staring at it.

He’s glad he’s looking, too, because Kent starts mouthing along with Britney, his eyes locked on Jack’s. He’s saying dirty things that Jack can’t really keep track of. He’s too mesmerized by Kenny, giving him this private show. 

Kent gyrates his hips and rolls his gorgeous stomach. It’s not especially coordinated, but Jack knows exactly what Kenny’s body is capable of. Knows what that hip twist feels like when he’s buried in him, knows his hands over his stomach and up his chest and on his shoulders. It does things to him. Specifically, it’s getting him hard faster than he should admit. But this is how these nights go. 

They drink, they fuck, Jack takes a few pills, and they fall asleep tangled in each other. Jack tries not to think about how many more times they’ll get to do this.

Kent stalks over to his chair, still singing, still dancing. He throws himself onto Jack’s lap and licks his way into his mouth. “More,” he repeats with Britney, “Gimme gimme more.” Jack pulls away to take another swig out of his cup.

Jack might not have more, but he’ll give him what he has.


End file.
